More Than a Fling? Read Online Free PDF Page B

and
thirty-five—would be interested in the man behind the phenomena. Who did this?
How did he do it? Add to the fact that you are...well, young, successful and a
good-looking guy—’
    ‘You think so?’
    Ally draped her arm over the back of her chair and held his
eyes. ‘Are you fishing for compliments now? You know that you are hot, Bennett.
We both know that you are hot.’
    He lifted one eyebrow. ‘Really?’
    ‘Don’t get excited; that’s a professional observation.’ Ally
knew that her voice held ice but she couldn’t be certain that her eyes weren’t
slowly undressing him. ‘I also love the idea of Crazy Collaborations—a
technology think-tank—but I think that we’d have to stick to you as creator of
Win! for the campaign.’
    ‘We’re not sticking to anything because the answer is still
no.’
    Dammit, she wasn’t anywhere near changing his mind. ‘What would
it take?’
    ‘To get me to do the campaign?’ Ross leaned back in his chair.
His mouth held a hint of a smile and his eyes narrowed in thought.
    ‘Mmm. Come on—hit me. What would it take? What’s the number?
The demand? Where’s the line in the sand?’
    ‘You sure you want to know?’
    Ally nodded, resigned. He was going to throw a ridiculous
number out there, or ask for something stupid, impractical, unobtainable or all
three. She’d been here before—matching demands with deliverability and, more
importantly, deciding whether they were worth what they were asking.
    Some were. Some weren’t.
    Ally rolled her head and looked at him from under her lashes.
Oh, well, in for a penny...or for many pounds. ‘Hit me.’
    ‘I will consider doing the campaign—seriously consider it—if
you sleep with me.’
    Ross almost looked around, in the vague hope that someone else
had suddenly joined the conversation, because he could not believe that those
words had come from his own mouth. What a flippin’ idiot.
    He looked at Ally, who looked as shocked as he was feeling.
Guppy look, Ross thought as his words registered and her eyes widened. He
expected her to make a fish noise at any minute. He raked his hand through his
hair. The words had slipped out. He’d been thinking them, but he normally
managed to keep his thoughts behind his teeth. They were at best wildly
inappropriate, and at worst sexual harassment of the worst kind.
    It was pushing her into a corner, asking her to go beyond the
call of duty. Of course she would say no—probably at the same time that she
threw that glass of red wine in his face.
    And he would so deserve it. What was he thinking? Oh, wait...
Maybe he wasn’t thinking...maybe he was allowing his little head to do the talking.
    Ally just stared at him with her surprised fish face and he
shifted in his chair. He wished she would say something and give him a hint of
the amount of crap he’d just jumped into.
    He lifted his hands in a gesture of apology. ‘Sorry. That
was...’
    ‘Rude? Inappropriate? Offensive?’ Ally tapped her finger
against the white tablecloth.
    ‘All of the above?’
    ‘Damn right.’
    She shrugged a slim shoulder and smiled. Smiled?
    ‘Okay, let’s go.’
    Whoa! Stop the bus! She was
prepared to do this? Had he heard her correctly? No, he couldn’t have.
    ‘Seriously?’
    Those eyes bored into him. ‘Wasn’t it a serious offer?’
    ‘Yes. No... Dammit, I didn’t expect you to say yes!’
    Ally cocked her head. ‘Why not?’
    ‘Because I didn’t think that you were the type.’ And, more
worrying, he really didn’t want her to be the type. Over the years he’d met far
too many women who’d use any weapon they could, including their sexuality, to
get one step higher up the corporate ladder. Grasping, greedy, power-hungry
women who thought it was acceptable to sleep, lie and manipulate their way to
the top.
    The realist in him knew that he was a target for those
predatory types. He had money, influence and, according to that stupid poll
recently, power. What that meant